A foot in the hand is worth 2 in a bush

This morning I looked up from my ironing to find Fing, sitting expectantly, one foot atop his box of Friskies. He was looking at me with such intensity that for a moment I felt like I was in a cat food commercial.

I snapped out of it and went over and poured some into a bowl then turned to find Truly Scrumptious Lulu, front left leg extended as she stretched, tapping her claws on the floor. She looked slightly confused, as if she had once been familiar with Morse code but now couldn't remember the basics.